


Cheating Derek: Romancing Walter Dooley

by Always_Bottom_Derek, Benn_Xavier



Series: Cheating Derek Series [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Body Image, Bottom Derek, Bottom Derek Hale, Cheating Derek Hale, Chubby/Muscle, Eventual Romance, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rough Kissing, cockslut derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22478542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Always_Bottom_Derek/pseuds/Always_Bottom_Derek, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benn_Xavier/pseuds/Benn_Xavier
Summary: Derek Hale was Walter Dooley’s ideal boyfriend: a handsome, well-muscled stud. And how he’d fantasized about such hyper-masculine looking guys when he was younger, the popular quarterback types who snagged all girls and made the young ladies desperate to hop on their dicks. The 25 year-old werewolf with a charming smile and a somewhat-secret, cockslutty whoriness was kind in his own way and had a profound, if sometimes misguided, sense of justice. He’d seen him many times out and about Beacon Hills with Stiles. The pair of them walking downtown, grabbing something at a local eatery, or just hanging out at the park.He heard from Stiles too, on some of the teenager’s drop-in visits to the station, about how Derek was the perfect boyfriend. Stiles was more than a little proud of how much his older lover cared about him and worked to make him happy. Amassing all this evidence, it hadn’t been hard for Dooley to fall in love with Derek Hale - even well before they’d started fucking.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Original Male Character(s), Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Cheating Derek Series [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/779064
Comments: 18
Kudos: 64





	Cheating Derek: Romancing Walter Dooley

**Author's Note:**

> Please, if you like Stiles so much you can't deal with him being cheated on and cuckholded, I ask you not to read this. If you feel this way and don't heed my warning, I don't wish to hear your complaints. Thank you.
> 
> If you don't have any problem with Derek's slutty infidelities, I hope you like this newest excerpt from the "Cheating Derek Verse"!
> 
> \- Benn Xavier

The sounds of skin hitting skin synched with the repeated slamming of the bed’s headboard against the wall. Derek's slutty moans accompanied these percussions, a sing-a-long to the rhythms of their fucking.

Walter Dooley's chubby hands gripped Derek’s tapered waist. The deputy panted, breathless, trying to keep up with the wereslut’s greedy pace. His fat rolls glistened with sweat from their hours of pleasure and his normally pale skin was flushed almost crimson. 

In the midst of this ecstasy, Dooley wondered for an instant how it was he never lost weight from these intense fuck sessions. After all, these activities were certainly aerobic. 

Weight loss or not, however, being with Derek had undoubtedly helped his stamina.

When he’d initially started to fool around with the Hale bitch, the other deputies at the Police station had ‘playfully’ bullied him, saying he’d never be able to keep up with Derek's wantonness. Dooley remembered when Derek chose him, stepping in, giving him a fierce kiss, grabbing his hand and guiding him towards the interrogation room for their first fuck. It made him blush even now, remembering how they were surrounded by catcalls and wolf whistles. 

Once inside the room away from the teasing, however, Derek had told him he didn't have to worry about exerting himself. Derek then went on to prove this, riding him for two hours until he’d cum no less than three times into the station slut’s greedy man-cunt.

Back then it had been hard to believe those hours hadn’t been just a fantastic dream. Even now, though they were fucking much more regularly, it was still difficult for Dooley to entirely fathom his good fortune. 

Derek Hale was his teenage-self’s ideal boyfriend: a handsome, well-muscled stud. And how he’d fantasized about such hyper-masculine looking guys when he was younger, the popular quarterback types who snagged all girls and made the young ladies desperate to hop on their dicks. 

Of course, during his high school days, the only sort of attention Dooley had received from guys like this was when they harassed or abused him for being a fat, gay teen. So now, almost fifty years later, having his cock buried inside Derek Hale's hole seemed like some kind of beautiful karmic retribution. With the exception being that Derek wasn't a douchebag like his old school bullies had been. 

The 25 year-old werewolf with a charming smile and a somewhat-secret, cockslutty whoriness was kind in his own way and had a profound, if sometimes misguided, sense of justice. And even before they’d first gotten together, more than once Dooley had been gripped by the poignant experience of witnessing Derek’s tenderness. 

He’d seen him many times out and about Beacon Hills with Stiles. The pair of them walking downtown, grabbing something at a local eatery, or just hanging out at the park. 

He wasn’t stalking them, not purposely anyway, but he’d lost count now of just how often he’d seen the couple with their arms linked. Derek whispering something (probably romantic) in the Sheriff's kid’s ear that made him smile, just seconds before pulling him close for a kiss. 

He heard from Stiles too, on some of the teenager’s drop-in visits to the station, about how Derek was the perfect boyfriend. Stiles was more than a little proud of how much his older lover cared about him and worked to make him happy.

Amassing all this evidence, it hadn’t been hard for Dooley to fall in love with Derek Hale - even well before they’d started fucking.

"That's it, WD. Pound my pussy. Dammit, this is so good!"

Dooley was broken from these momentary reflections by Derek’s erotic exclamations. He glanced down to see the werewolf’s wonderfully large hands entwined in sweat-damp sheets. Face down, chest pressed to the mattress Derek arched his back as he pushed his ass up to meet the strokes of Dooley's hips. Animal grunts punctuated Derek’s breathless chuckles as he reveled in being pounded from behind.

Doggy-style wasn’t one of Dooley’s favorite positions. Fucking this way took a considerable bit effort on his part. Also, he didn’t like the way his pendulous belly made it difficult to see what was happening beneath it. (Because there were fewer things more beautiful than watching Derek’s ass-lips stretch as his hole swallowed a fat dick. ) But it was definitely one of Derek’s favorite ways of being taken. And Derek's begging to be mounted like a bitch and the perfect alluring image he made on all fours was irresistible and kept Dooley's cock reviving for hours on end.

Huffing with labored breaths, Dooley drank in the mesmerizing vision of Derek's well-muscled body- what he could see of it beyond his bulk. He admired Derek’s puffed out biceps and triceps as he grasped the sheets, the broadness of his back glistening with sweat, the ripple of muscles under the black inked triskle tattoo between his shoulder blades. And then there was the fantastic sight of Derek’s muscular glutes, framed today by the black stripes of a fancy jockstrap. The way his ass bounced back and forth under Dooley’s gut with each deep stroke was hypnotizing.

"C'mon WD, fuck me harder. I know you can do it, darling," gyrating his hips, Derek emphasized his plea.

_ ‘Darling?’ _ Dooley thought.

Since their fuck a few weeks back at Derek's loft where he had opened his heart up to the werewolf while balls deep in Derek’s opened cunt, Dooley had noticed a change in Derek's behavior. There’d been more kissing when they screwed, and an increase on the wereslut’s part in the use of intimate, romantic words, and nicknames. 

Dooley had it on good authority that Derek didn't do this with his other studs so this shift confused him.

"I.. I don't.." before he could complete his stuttered sentence, Derek spoke up.

"You can do it, babe. Just use your weight as counterbalance." 

Seeing Derek’s desperation, Dooley left off speaking to save his breath. Following his bossy bottom’s directions he leaned over, arms supporting himself on the mattress. His oversized belly slumped into and filled the dip in Derek's arched lower back. 

Dooley tried to set up a rhythm but his massive weight didn't allow much leeway in this new position. So instead of powerful strokes, he opted for a more speedy, rabbit-rutting of his hips in short rapid pulses, frictioning his cock against Derek's hot, wet inner walls. 

"Fuck! That's it! I can feel your cock against my prostate." Derek's hard cock strained the pouch of his jockstrap, twitching and spurting another pulse of fresh precum. 

His rich, deep laugh made Dooley's heart skip. He redoubled his efforts in fucking but he was a fat, sixty year-old man and soon his arms started to tremble at the prolonged strain of holding up himself.

"Derek, I can't stay like this too much longer," Dooley said, his voice pleading.

Glancing back at him with a cock-dazed smile, Derek reached back and pulled Dooley's arms forward, gravity yanking almost 300 lbs of fat over on top of his muscles.

Both of them gasped. Derek whooped out in pleasure as the air was pushed abruptly from his lungs and Dooley's cock impaled him deeper, stroking his prostate just right. It sent an electric jolt through his body, triggering another orgasm. Fresh seed spilled into his already cum-soiled jock.

Above him, Dooley groaned out loud, the clenching of Derek's hole milking out the last in his reserve of thick semen. His whole body trembled with his orgasm while under him, Derek's was almost completely obscured by his sprawling fat rolls.

"Jesus Christ," Dooley panted into Derek's nape.

"I know my hole holds the power of conversion, but actually it's Derek Hale," Derek wheezed from beneath Dooley’s bulk. The joke and Derek’s squished, breathless delivery was enough to send them both into a fit of grown-man giggles.

Spreading his legs to relieve some pressure and accommodate Dooley's weight, Derek tilted his head back, capturing Dooley's mouth in a passionate but loving kiss.

"I love you, Derek," Dooley gasped, overcome, a shy flush adding to the ruddiness of his sweaty face.

Derek didn't say it back. Not with words anyway. Instead, he reached out a hand and set it on the back of Dooley's balding head and flashed him a big grin before seeking a dozen more breathless, tongue-filled kisses.

-X-

Still basking in his post-sex glow, Dooley laid on his king size bed while Derek used his shower. It was a cold fall night, so he made no attempt to open the window to clear out the humid, musky sex-scent that hung in the room. Actually, he rather liked it. Besides, that would have meant moving and Derek had all but exhausted him.

Reclining against the headboard, a sheet covering his large midsection, Dooley did muster enough energy to reach out for the cum-filled jockstrap Derek had dropped on the bed before heading into the bathroom. Reverently fingering the sweat-soaked fabric he brought it to his face and took a deep breath, inhaling its pungent smell. 

Of course, that also had to be the moment the bathroom door opened and Derek came out in all his naked glory, rubbing his wet hair with a towel.

Ashamed of being caught in such a dirty act, Dooley dropped the jock and quickly tried to hide it beneath the bed sheets. Hoping he’d moved fast enough that his secret adoration for Derek's werewolf smell had gone unobserved, he attempted to shift his expression to one of innocence. However, even if his moment of weakness had passed unnoticed by Derek's supernatural senses, the crimson flush on his face was a giveaway that something was up.

Smirking, Derek dropped the towel on the floor and strutted towards the bed. He climbed on and laid down next to Dooley tucking his arms behind his head in a way that made his biceps flex beautifully.

"No need to be ashamed, darling. Everyone has his secret kinks. You can keep that jock if you want. I won't be using it again anyway since it’s quite ruined from all the jizz you fucked out of me."

It sounds sort of sad but the offer of that used jock was quite possibly the nicest gift anyone had ever given Dooley. Even more precious, however, was Derek’s open acceptance of his kinky predilection without any shaming. It took a few moments to recover himself but when Dooley had enough courage to look at Derek, his relaxed heart resumed its pounding at the stunning sight of Derek’s amused smile framed by perfectly trimmed stubble. 

Derek reached under the covers and pulled out the evidence of his slutty joy. He lifted it to his nose and took a big whiff himself before pressing the damp jock into Dooley’s clammy fingers. “Seems only fitting you should have this. After the way you fucked me tonight you’ve more than earned it.”

Derek kept their hands locked around his dirty jock but stretched out the rest of himself alongside Dooley. Relaxed and at peace, with his thrice bred hole, Derek's cock hunger had been sated for now. 

His naked body on display atop the rumpled sheets, Dooley's eyes darted south, scanning Derek's sculpted physique. Damn, he’d never thought it was possible to have pectorals so muscularly plump and a six-pack so defined. He wondered if Derek's werewolf genes played a part in his easy achievement of such masculine perfection.

Derek opened his eyes when he felt a chubby hand brush against his still shower-jewelled abs. Thick fingers traced the grooves and lines of his muscles.

"When I was younger, I used to dream of having a body like this," Dooley confessed. “But it's always been so hard for me to get fit.

“I never was the athletic type. I mean, I've gone to the gym, off and on my whole life but it's just not my thing. 

“And I don't even know how I managed to stay in the Police for so long. Mostly, I guess it’s just because Sheriff Stilinski’s been too nice to just sack me…”

Derek shifted, and set his free hand on Dooley's non-existent jawline. 

"You do good work at the department, Dooley. The Sheriff has told me as much. And I like you...” Derek’s hand drifted down to palm the mound of the deputy’s big belly, “just the way you are.

“So you don't need to worry about this stuff anymore, uhn? And as for ‘wanting to have a body like this’.... Well, you do have it in a way. You can use my body anytime. For your pleasure, to relieve your old unspent teenage frustrations on a stud like me, for whatever. You possess me, Walter Dooley. I mean it."

Smiling, Derek leaned over, his dark stubble a stark contrast against the pale smoothness of Dooley's round face, and punctuated his declaration by planting a devoted kiss on the deputy’s lips. Dooley responded eagerly and they continued making out until Derek’s cell phone rang. 

Derek pulled away reluctantly. "Give me one sec," he said before hopping off the bed in search of the jeans he discarded on the room's clothes-strewn floor. Once he’d located them he pulled his phone from a pocket.

"Hey, Stiles. What’s up?" 

As if their cheating was about to be discovered, the mention of the Sheriff's kid made Dooley's mouth dry and a knot formed in his throat.

"Me? I'm just chilling out," Derek said nonchalantly, throwing himself back on the bed. Dooley tried not to eavesdrop but this close to Derek he couldn’t help but hear the conversation.

"Tomorrow? Yeah, we can go out. Where do you wanna go?"

They were setting up a date! Despite his best efforts Dooley's couldn’t help but feel a little seed of jealousy inside him begin to germinate. 

"Ok, shopping and then a late movie at the mall. Got it. I’ll pick you up at 7:30. Love you too, Sti."

Derek hung up and turned to Dooley, smiling as if he hadn’t just had a romantic conversation with his boyfriend.

"Where were we before that interruption?" Derek set his phone aside and draped his muscled form half-over Dooley's fat body, chasing his mouth in pursuit of another make out session. 

But Dooley's hands pressed on his shoulders, keeping him off.

"What's the problem?” Derek asked with one eyebrow arched. 

For some reason the phone call had made things real for Dooley in a way they hadn’t been before. And despite how much he wanted Derek, for the first time he felt convicted about what they’d been doing. 

"This is so wrong,” he sighed, knowing he was likely ending the best thing that had ever happened to him by saying this. “Stiles is a good boy. He’s never done anything mean to me and still, here I am, an old man who knows better, naked in my bed with his boyfriend,"

"Listen Walter," Derek said a firm tone, similar to the one he used with his betas. "You have no responsibility in this. I'm the guilty one. I'm the fucking slut that can't get enough cock. So I cheat on Stiles.”

For the first time since Dooley had known of Derek’s slutty nature, the werewolf seemed troubled by his actions.

"I need cock, Walter. And cum. Fuck, I crave them both so much. And that hunger, it’s stronger than me. I have this itch inside that has to be scratched. Constantly. I know it seems ridiculous to say this but I fuck around for Stiles well-being. He could never keep up with me and it would crush him to know that. 

“That and he’d probably kill himself trying to keep me sated. Poor kid, just doesn’t have enough in him.

“I love him, believe me." Derek said with a desperate shake of his head. “I would die for him no matter who else fucks me."

Dooley didn't need superpowers to hear the earnestness in Derek's words or see the belief in his eyes that he was speaking the truth. 

Nobody had ever said anything so devoted like that, to him. Dooley thought in that moment, that even if Derek took every other man’s cock in Beacon Hills, Stiles was the luckiest guy he’d ever known.

He wished someone felt that strongly about him. For just a flash he wondered if there was any way in their growing intimacy that Derek might truly be able to share his heart the same way he shared the rest of his body. 

"Would you go on a date with me?" Dooley's mouth put the words out there faster than his brain could filter them and he regretted it immediately.

"What?" This time both Derek's eyebrows rose. A crooked smile dawned on his face.

Dooley shook his head and flapped his hands. "Nothing. Nevermind. Forget it." He made a move to heft his bulk out of the bed but Derek used his werewolf strength to hold him down.

"No. Say it again"

Reluctantly, Dooley spit out, "I heard you setting up a date with Stiles and… I’ve never been out on a date before." He sighed, blushing furiously. “You said before he called that I had you… And you’d said something else a while back at your loft… so, I guess… I wanted… I wondered...”

Derek interrupted his awkward explaining, "where do you wanna go?" 

"What?" Dooley asked, incredulous.

"Chose a place and we’ll have a date. What I said, back in my loft, that you have me as much as Stiles does, I really mean it. I meant that too today, earlier, in case I wasn’t clear enough. So, if Stiles can have a date with me, you can too."

"But… If someone spots us? I want you so much, but I don’t want to hurt Stiles either..." Not expecting such a positive response from Derek, Dooley was overcome with joy and anxiety simultaneously.

"Don't you worry about that. Nobody's gonna see us,"

Dooley nodded at last, excitement filling his huge belly. "Hmm, how about Saturday night? I’ve always dreamt of a nice romantic dinner."

"Okay.” Derek smiled. “It's a date then. And I can’t wait to watch you eat, WD." He leaned closer to kiss Dooley to seal their agreement. This time Dooley offered no resistance.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think on the comments section! ;)


End file.
